


a matter of circumstance

by TLvop



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Identity, Names, Natasha-centric, Trying to Reconcile Natasha's Age and Experience, non-archive warnings see note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLvop/pseuds/TLvop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Names are not prophesies, but they have power.</p><p>--</p><p>Seven times Nataliya Alianovna was twenty years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a matter of circumstance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashen_key](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashen_key/gifts).



> Non-archive warning: Self-harm/cutting: The last scene references a character with a healing factor having some (non-graphic) curiosity over its limitations, but not exploring them.

It's 2004, and Nataliya Alianovna is twenty, and she's the rising star of the Red Room's storied special infiltrations unit, code name: Black Widow.

And she's on her way out.

Natasha doesn't know how she's managed to stay in this place so long; once, the Red Room had clearly been an operation with some level of pull in the world, but that time is long gone. It was their reputation, she decided. Sure, they were so firmly run by ex-KGB leaders that they barely communicated with the FSB, but you couldn't even touch the intelligence community without having at least heard rumors.

Natasha doesn't know when the woman died, or was killed, or if she ever really existed at all before her. But Natasha knows the power of a good rumor.

Black Widow is a name that will do her well.

\--

It's 1991, and Nataliya Alianovna is twenty, and she is the rising star of the Red Room's storied special infiltrations unit, code name: Black Widow. 

The Soviet Union has dissolved, and of course Natasha is devastated. She's a patriot.

But she doesn't know why she is _this_ devastated: unable to move from her bed in Paris even though she has functions to attend, has a job to do for the Red Room. There is still Russia. She is still Russian. This day has been coming for years.

This day has been coming for years, but it hits her in the face like a blow. When she sleeps, she dreams fitfully of the sound of tango music and gunfire echoing in a ruined city she cannot name

\--

It's 1984, and Nataliya Alianovna is twenty, and she is the rising star of the Red Room's storied special infiltrations unit, code name: Black Widow.

She doesn't like it, but it's tradition dating back to when people didn't give a shit about the kind of sexist jokes it drew. It's heritage, and she understands that, understands why a consistent history is important for an organization like the Red Room – legends give you clout, especially at the political level.

The joke's in her favor. Being overlooked as a source of humor is as useful as being overlooked for any other reason.

But she doesn't have to like it.

\--

It's 1975, and Nataliya Alianovna is twenty, and she is the rising star of the Red Room's storied special infiltrations unit, code name: Black Widow.

Natasha's been partnered with an asset called _Winter Soldier_ , and she hates being around him. He's the best, apparently, but he's ... well, creepy.

Sometimes she feels like there is a real person inside of the cyborg, like maybe he used to have opinions and feelings. Like maybe he used to be someone you could know.

She doesn't want to fix him, but she doesn't think she could even if she did.

Natasha does not enjoy being helpless.

\--

It's 1968, and Nataliya Alianovna is twenty, and she is the rising star of the Red Room's special infiltrations unit, code name: Lynx.

She hates it. 

She is not the silent stalker, the assassin in the night. She goes without notice, there but undetected, too friendly and young and pretty and female to merit suspicion. She is not the assassin, she is the infiltrator. Killing people is only eight percent of her job.

Maybe Winter should be Lynx. It suits him.

She's like a spider, building networks of information from small points, weaving a picture. She strikes at a weakness, before withdrawing subtly enough that the sudden collapse of reputation is seen as ill fate rather than an orchestrated plot.

Occasionally, the scientists call her Black Widow – the code name of the agent who came before her. Natasha likes it much better, even if the startled alarm whenever they slip up is strange. What is the code name of a dead woman to her?

Beyond enviably better than her own.

\--

It's 1957, and Nataliya Alianovna is twenty, and she is the rising star of the Red Room's special infiltrations unit, code name: Black Widow.

"Hey, Nancy," Winter says in English, looking up from his newspaper, and _damn it_ does Natasha envy him his lackadaisical American accent. She sounds like she's been in prep schools her entire life – which is, of course, why Nancy Reynolds has. "Do you remember that time we went to the ice rink? It was maybe '55."

She feels briefly like she knows what he's asking, and she can't figure out if it's a code or if it's because she remembers an ice rink and the feeling of Winter's lips pressed against her forehead as she cries about – someone…

Her forehead wrinkles. No. She'd only just joined the Red Room in '55, and she and Winter only met for this assignment six months ago. It must be some form of code. She'll break it. If she's supposed to know it already, she's not going to let him know she doesn't. "I can't say I do, darling," she says, honest enough, "but I'm sure there's plenty of them around here."

He never mentions it again.

\--

It's 1948, and Nataliya Alianovna is twenty, and she is the Red Room's experimental subject, a desperate struggle to build off the man they found in the snow. She's not supposed to know about that, but she's not been hand-picked for this role because she doesn't pay attention.

(The new scientists are Swiss, not German, and Natasha forces herself to trust in that difference even with the ashes of Stalingrad still bitter in her mouth.)

The implants in her wrists are no longer inflamed, though they're still somewhat tender as she stretches them carefully, feeling for the discs lightly. There are no scars; she's not supposed to scar in most cases, but she hasn't tested it. She's an investment on the part of the state; she will not harm their property to satisfy her own curiosity.

She's in the secondary lab when they give her the wrist straps that her wrists let her control, when she manages to electrocute herself before anything else, when the implants _work_.

They tell her, that night: she will be called Black Widow.

Natasha considers Alexei with a fleeting twinge, but they might not even marry (he's going to ask, she knows it, but she doesn't know if she will be allowed to accept), and he will never know the name, and she is not superstitious. Names are not prophesies.

She focuses, however, on the spider: small, and potent, with a bite that leaves no sign.

"Black Widow," she repeats, slow, and then lets herself smile. "Yes. Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Gunfire and tango music is a reference to the psychological warfare by the Russians against the Nazis during the siege of Stalingrad, where they played tango music nonstop. (Interspersed with messages about how the Nazis were all going to die terribly.) Source: Antony Beevor's book Stalingrad.
> 
> Alexei was Natasha's husband in the comics, but this one's very vague references is heavily stolen from ashen_key's portrayal of him which is comics-inspired, not comics-accurate :).


End file.
